The Fifth Desk · Evaluation
Act I · The Map
Ludwig van Beethoven · a sonata for piano in B flat major, Op. 106, titled in the first edition “Große Sonate für das Hammerklavier” · four movements, the last a Largo and a three-voice fugue · about forty to fifty minutes in performance
Mode
The piano sonata at the scale of a symphony; sonata form, scherzo, slow movement, improvisation written down and fugue
Mythos
The night journey and the making of a world from chaos: an assertion of power, a descent, a threshold without form, a creation by law
Phase
Four movements; B flat, B flat, F sharp minor, B flat, with the descending third as the law of every scale
Presentation
Concert music; a sonata for solo piano in four movements, the fourth a Largo and a fugue for three voices
Register
From a fanfare and a parody to a long lament, a groping in silence and learned counterpoint at full force; no word anywhere
Scale
One mind and its art; one instrument at the widest compass Beethoven had yet written for; about forty to fifty minutes
Governing Proposition
A fanfare asserts a law, and the first movement breaks it a semitone from home; a slow movement goes as far from the tonic as the system allows and stays there; a Largo tries keys and drops them; and a fugue, the strictest of forms, is built against its own rules. The wager of the work is that order is not inherited but made, and that recovery is labour, not grace.
Act II · The Essay
Movement I
Allegro, B flat major, in cut time. The left hand leaps to a full chord, forte, and the right answers with a fanfare. The sonata opens by asserting something, and what it asserts is a law: the leap and the fall of the fanfare carry the interval that governs the whole work, the third, falling. The exposition does not move to the dominant, as a Classical sonata’s would, but to G major, a third below the tonic, and every later return in the work obeys the same rule.
Beethoven’s metronome mark for the movement is a minim at 138. Few pianists take it. Schnabel, recording the sonata in 1935, came near it, and the attempt is part of the work’s record: the speed is written past what the hand finds comfortable, and the question whether the mark means what it says has never been closed. The exposition is marked to be repeated, and the repeat is part of the work as scored here.
In the development the law reaches its edge. The music settles in B minor and B major, a semitone from the tonic, as far from home as a single step can go, and it is the same descent by thirds that has carried it there. On the threshold of the recapitulation stands the one textual question of the work: whether a note is A sharp or A natural. Editors and analysts have argued it for over a century. It concerns a note, not a movement, and it marks exactly the place where the law and its breach meet.
Movement II
Scherzo: Assai vivace, B flat major, 3/4, with a trio in B flat minor. After the first movement’s weight, the second is brief, wry and partly a parody of the opening: the fanfare’s rising figure turned to play. Its motive is the falling third again, and it obeys the law of intervals exactly. It obeys the argument less: it is a hinge, and a lighter one than its place in so large a plan needs.
Then the interruption. A Presto in 2/4 breaks into the movement, a joke in a sonata of this size, and the scherzo returns as if nothing had happened. The argument of the work does not absorb it. Of everything in the sonata it is the passage farthest from the Adagio’s grief, and the law of the third still governs it; but the irony is left unplaced, and what it means in the plan is still read differently.
The charge against it is fair to a degree. The sonata needs a pause between its assertion and its descent, and the Scherzo gives one. It does not deepen the argument; it lightens it before the longest movement begins, in a key as far from B flat as the work goes.
Movement III
Adagio sostenuto, appassionato e con molto sentimento, F sharp minor, 6/8. After the sonata was engraved, Beethoven sent a single bar to be added at its head: two notes, a threshold before the movement proper. The maker heard that the descent needed a step down into it, and the bar is part of the work as published. Then the long first theme, in the key farthest from the tonic, the darkest place the work’s system holds.
It is long, and it stays where it is. The grief does not console itself. The light, when it comes, comes by a turn to G major, the Neapolitan region, and from there the movement opens. The melody is given again embellished, in figuration that keeps the line under the ornament, with the soft pedal shading it, and the texture is as varied as any Beethoven wrote for the instrument.
The coda returns to the opening phrase at its quietest, and the texture thins until little is left. This is among the summits of slow music for the piano, and it is the reason the rest of the sonata must exist: without it the fugue has nothing to answer. The Adagio does not resolve the first movement’s semitone; it carries the law of the third to its farthest point and leaves the way back to be found.
Movement IV
The Largo is the way back, and it is not a return but a search. Part of it is unbarred. It tries keys and textures and drops them: a few bars in one place, a silence, a few in another, the keys falling by thirds from one attempt to the next. It is improvisation written down, and it is the work’s chaos before creation. Nothing in it holds its form for long, and that is its form.
Then the search ends. Allegro risoluto: a trill, a leap of a tenth, and the fugue begins, headed “Fuga a tre voci, con alcune licenze”, a fugue in three voices, with some licences. The old learned form, the strictest there is, is set at the summit of the new genre’s argument, and its heading declares in advance that its rules will be strained. The subject’s first leap is the work’s falling third folded down.
Beethoven had already put fugues into the finales of Op. 101 and Op. 102 no. 2; the road was partly his own. What is new is the place the fugue holds. A finale in rondo or sonata form would come home. A fugue has to be built voice by voice, and order recovered in this way is made, not returned to.
Movement V
The fugue drives its subject in augmentation against the other voices, sets it in retrograde, the cancrizans, and in inversion, all at speed, and the trills run through the texture like a fuse. In places the writing is against the hand, thick in the bass and congested at tempo, and some passages do not sound as what they are on most instruments. The congestion is partly the content: the law is strained to breaking because it is being made under pressure. The long trilled sequences and some middle episodes could lose bars without losing a step.
In the middle the storm stops. A quiet episode in D major, still and chorale-like, brings a new subject, and later the fugue combines it with the first. It is the one moment of peace the finale allows, and it is not where the work ends: the storm resumes, and the fugue is built out to its close. Whether that close is triumph or violence, consummation or catastrophe, has never been settled.
The sonata was composed in 1817 and 1818 and published by Artaria in Vienna in 1818, dedicated to Archduke Rudolph, as the “Große Sonate für das Hammerklavier”. For the London edition of 1819 Beethoven allowed the movements to be reordered and the Largo or the fugue dropped; the Viennese edition, which he saw through the press, is the work. Its public life began late, through Liszt, and since the later nineteenth century every major pianist has had to answer it. It remains the least played of the great sonatas, because few can play it, and the longest Beethoven wrote. What it shows is plain: order is made, not inherited, and recovery is labour.
Act III · The Twelve
Length is not charged: the scale is compelled by an argument that must travel from the fanfare’s assertion to F sharp minor, the farthest key of the work, and back by a search. The subtractive test meets resistance at the joints. The opening leap seeds the descending thirds; without the Adagio the fugue has nothing to answer; the Largo is the passage back, and without it the fugue arrives from nowhere. It finds give in three places: the Scherzo, brief and partly a parody of the opening, a lighter hinge than its place needs; the fugue’s long trilled sequences and middle episodes; and the maker’s own licence, for the London edition, to reorder the movements or drop the Largo or the fugue. Held below Winterreise’s 8.9 for that.
Score: 8.7 / 10
Disclosure through sound is credited fully, and here it can be stated: order is not inherited but made, and made against resistance. The first movement asserts a law in its fanfare, and the development breaks it into a semitone’s distance, B minor against B flat. The Adagio goes as far from home as the system allows and stays there, a grief that does not console itself. The way back is not a return but a search: the Largo tries keys and textures and abandons them, until a fugue is built “con alcune licenze”, its rules strained to breaking. Recovery is labour, not grace. Held below the top because the listener assembles the proposition from a wordless course, and the Scherzo’s irony is left unplaced in it.
Score: 8.7 / 10
Height is reached often, and in more than one register. The sublime of grandeur: the opening fanfare, the left hand’s leap to a full chord, forte, and the first movement’s massed climaxes. The sublime of grief and beauty: the Adagio throughout, its long first theme in F sharp minor, the turn to G major that opens the movement’s light, the coda’s return to the opening phrase at its quietest. The sublime of the unknown: the Largo, groping through keys with silences between. The sublime of terror and energy: the fugue’s trills and its subject driven in augmentation against the other voices, then a still episode in D major before the storm resumes. Held from the top because the Scherzo is flat by design and parts of the fugue are force more than elevation.
Score: 9.3 / 10
An archetype is built, not only evoked: the night journey, and the making of a world from chaos. The plan is load-bearing. An assertion of power; a descent into the farthest darkness the key system holds; a threshold where nothing keeps its form, the Largo, unbarred in part, trying possibilities and dropping them; and then a creation that is a law imposed by force, the fugue’s subject launched by a leap and a trill. The Largo is the work’s chaos before creation, and the finale stands on it. What holds the axis is the particular, which instrumental music keeps thinly: no person, place or act is named, and the archetype is built from tonal distance and form alone. Level with the Goldberg Variations at 8.4.
Score: 8.4 / 10
The inheritance is the Classical sonata of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven’s own thirty years at it, with tonic and dominant the poles of every movement. The departures are many, and they are one wager: a sonata at the scale of a symphony; a tonal system of descending thirds in place of the fifth’s polarity, carried through all four movements; a development that settles a semitone from home; a long slow movement in the key farthest from the tonic; a Largo that is improvisation written down; a finale fugue whose heading declares its licences. The stake was real: its tempi and its difficulty were written past the players of its day. Held below the top because the road was partly his own: Op. 101 and Op. 102 no. 2 had already put fugues into late sonata finales.
Score: 9.2 / 10
Change the form and the work stops knowing what it knows: that order recovered is made, not returned to. A finale in rondo or sonata form would come home; the fugue, the form of law, has to be built voice by voice, and its licences are the form’s knowledge that the law strains. The Largo is form as search, a transition that is the content. The descending third is the form’s grammar at every scale, from motive to key plan, so that the Adagio’s F sharp minor and the development’s B minor are the same law driven to its edges. As a suite of character pieces the work would lose its argument. Held below the top at the Scherzo, tied to the plan by motive more than form, and at the fugue’s episodes, where the form fills time it has earned.
Score: 9.3 / 10
Evidence, not promise, and two centuries of it. The questions stay open: whether the note on the threshold of the first movement’s recapitulation is A sharp or A natural, argued by editors and analysts for over a century; whether Beethoven’s metronome marks, a minim at 138 for the first movement, mean what they say, which Schnabel’s recording of 1935 nearly took at their word and few have since; whether the fugue is triumph or violence; how the Scherzo belongs. The analytic literature is large and still yields, from Tovey’s edition and commentary to Charles Rosen’s writing on the sonatas. The performance tradition is a record of contest: Liszt, Bülow, Schnabel, Solomon, Gilels, Brendel, Pollini. Held a tenth below the top because the literature is weighted to the last century.
Score: 9.4 / 10
The work reorganised what a piano sonata could be: in scale, in tonal law, and in putting the old learned fugue at the summit of the new genre’s argument. Its reach is concentrated in the sonata rather than spread across music, and the late style’s deepest influence ran through the quartets as much as through the sonatas; both are discounted, as is the delay. Achieved reach is scored with intrinsic force: delayed, then decisive. Little heard for a generation, it became through Liszt the proof text of the piano sonata as a major form. Liszt’s own Sonata in B minor and the early sonatas of Brahms stand in its line, and the large Romantic sonata after it is unthinkable without its example. The line is credited, not each link.
Score: 9.1 / 10
Survival is weighed on form, presence and fabric. Form: the work survives whole in the first edition of 1818, with the single bar Beethoven added at the head of the Adagio after engraving. One textual question is real, the A sharp, but it concerns a note, not a movement, and the work is in no doubt. Presence is the cost. Its public life began late, through Liszt, and it remains the least often played of the great sonatas because few can play it; but since the later nineteenth century it has stood continuously in the repertory of the major pianists and in the recorded catalogue. Fabric: little of its surface is fixed to its moment. Written past its instrument, it has needed no retouching on the modern piano. The late start is charged.
Score: 9.3 / 10
Read to the same anchors as every medium, the making bears weight throughout. One interval generates every movement without sounding schematic: the first movement’s exposition moves to G major, a third below, and every return obeys. The Adagio’s texture is as varied as any Beethoven wrote for the instrument: a long cantabile, then the melody embellished in figuration that keeps the line, una corda shading, the coda’s thinning. The fugue holds its subject in augmentation, in retrograde, in inversion, and combines it with a new subject in the D major episode; its licences are command, not lapse. The cost: the keyboard writing is in places against the hand, thick in the bass and congested in the fugue at tempo. Below the Goldberg’s 9.7 for that.
Score: 9.5 / 10
Take the two most distant elements: the Scherzo’s Presto interruption, a joke in a sonata of this weight, and the Adagio’s grief in F sharp minor; or the Largo’s formlessness and the fugue’s strictest law. One law governs them, the descending third: it is the Scherzo’s motive, the Adagio’s key relation to the whole, the Largo’s chain of keys, and the fugue subject’s first leap, a tenth, folded down. Even the semitone shocks, B minor in the first movement and the Adagio’s distance, are the law extended to its edge, not broken. The range governed is wide for one instrument: fanfare, parody, lament, improvisation and counterpoint. The tension is the Scherzo, which obeys the law of intervals more than the argument, and the licence Beethoven gave for London to reorder the movements.
Score: 9.4 / 10
A wordless piano work holds more orders than its medium suggests, through its registers. Consciousness, in a subject passing from assertion through grief to labour; the learned tradition, in a fugue that carries Bach and Handel into the sonata; the public and ceremonial, in the fanfare and the first movement’s grandeur; the comic, in the Scherzo; the sacred, unnamed, in the chorale-like stillness of the D major episode and the prayer of the Adagio’s close. They are held on one law, not listed. What holds the axis here is absence: the state, history, labour, the family and the natural order do not appear, and nothing outside one mind and its art is held. Above the Goldberg’s 7.4 for its range of states; below Winterreise’s 7.7, whose words bring in a town and the weather.
Score: 7.5 / 10
Act IV · The Reckoning
9.0 / 10 · Final Average
Placement: Tier IV · Canonical
Strongest Dimensions
The Made at 9.5, then The Bottomless Well and The Inner Law at 9.4. A making in which one falling interval generates every movement and a fugue holds its subject in augmentation, retrograde and inversion; two centuries of open questions, from one note to the meaning of the close; and one law, the descending third, governing fanfare, parody, lament, improvisation and counterpoint.
Limiting Dimension
The Encompassed at 7.5: a wordless sonata holds consciousness, the learned tradition, the ceremonial, the comic and an unnamed sacred, but the state, history, labour, the family and the natural order are absent. The Archetypal Deep at 8.4 is what holds the work below the summit: its descent and creation are built in the form, but no figure, place or act gives the myth a particular, and the depth of its myth does not match its height and its making. The Inevitable and The Unconcealment stand at 8.7, held by a Scherzo lighter than its place, the fugue’s separable stretches and a proposition the listener assembles.
The aggregate reaches 9.0, and four summit conditions hold. The Necessity Cap clears at 8.7 against a threshold of 7.5. The Coherence Floor clears with room: The Made at 9.5, The Inner Law at 9.4, The Living Form at 9.3, each against 7.0. The Universal Minimum is met: of the eleven axes it covers, none falls below 8.4, against 7.5. The Encompassed, which it exempts, clears its own floor of 6.0 at 7.5. The Epochal Gate is unmet: The Imperishable at 9.3, The Swerve at 9.2, Pressure on Tradition at 9.1 and The Unconcealment at 8.7 clear the bar of 8.5, but The Archetypal Deep 8.4 stands a tenth short. One of the five epochal axes stops below 8.5, and the summit is withheld by the Epochal Gate alone.
Basis · the score of the Piano Sonata No. 29 in B flat major, Op. 106, in its standard performing version: the four movements in the order of the Viennese first edition of 1818, with the single bar Beethoven added at the head of the Adagio after engraving and the first movement’s exposition repeat as written, and its performance tradition, read from knowledge under the desk’s convention for concert music. No score, edition or recording was in hand, and the running time is a range across the recorded tradition, not a measurement. The London edition of 1819, with the reordering Beethoven allowed for it, is not the work scored. There are no words. Beethoven’s headings and markings are given as he wrote them; the only other words quoted are the title of the first edition. Figures that could not be verified, among them bar counts, the durations of the single movements, the date of the first public performance, the fate of the autograph and the instrument Beethoven had in hand while writing, are not given. The sound of the work as heard is beyond this reading and is neither credited nor charged.